Living in a world of imagination ♡

18+ Requests are open for now! Ships are closed! I mostly repost cute and spicy fics I love!♡

[nogitsune-the]

Masterlist

Rules!

The Flash (no longer writing for)

Prison break (no longer writing for)

Baldurs gate

Criminal Minds

Avengers 

Teen Wolf

X-Men

Supernatural

Suicide Squad

My hero academia

The Walking Dead (Masterlist pending)

Prompts

Kinktober masterlist 2021

[abyssyby]

pulled out from a private auction to discuss eoncore trades with onychinus, valko was not prepared to meet the infamous sylus with two toddlers clinging to his pant legs.

they’d done dealings before, and are on relatively good terms— the standard being: having had no major war between their factions and men— but he cannot still understand the inner workings of his business partner.

because when sylus leaves the room to answer a phone call, he wonders why in this planet would he leave his two children, vulnerable and defenseless, alone with a stranger.

valko worries for the children’s safety. especially this one named lucian, who balances himself on the edge of the seat’s headrest.

“you’ll fall.” he states, because it is a fact.

“no, won’t.” the sharply dressed little one replies just as assuredly. his new suit squeaks and threads strain under the unusual movements.

the other one, identical in features but not in behavior, sits on the very seat just below his brother. if lucian falls, lucian-two will be squished.

he is used to this, he tells himself.

watching pups in the pack play rough never bothered him, as it is a natural part of growth. essential for development. necessary for success. he used to believe that other children would benefit from the way a wolf is raised.

and yet, here he is at the edge of his seat— nails digging into the poor armrests as lucian wavers and wobbles on the beam, threatening the false sense of safety of his twin, who would not speak to him, and most definitely would not appreciate him moving him.

ready to leap and catch, should a wrong step emerge victorious.

even if he were to fall, valko should think not to worry.

as these ones smell different.

milk, blueberries, sweet cereal and cream. but beneath, fire and smoke, a distant field, a buried memory.

surely, they would be like their father. formidable, indestructible. too large to touch, too mythical to fathom.

the twin blinks sleepily at him. still refusing to speak. head lolling forward, out of his control.

surely…

“ah!” lucian’s foot slips. valko lurches.

lucian is snatched from his momentary free fall, and cradled into safe arms.

valko’s tongue knows no cage. “told you.”

lucian’s knows no manners, but sticks his tongue out at him cheekily. “bleh!”

valko tilts his head. amused.

“woosian,” finally, his twin speaks. peeking over the edge of the armrest to look at them. “be nice.”

“am nice!” lucian protests. in support valko grins and tickles his belly.

“he is.”

the little one gasps when he is acknowledged and bends his head back down to hide away.

“come on, little hatchling, i don’t bite.” valko says, placing lucian on his shoulder and leaning over to kyros slowly. “my name is valko.”

he places a finger on the upholstery, an olive branch.

the little one shifts on his knees and stares at the bejeweled hand— big, strong but not unsettling. slowly, he emerges and places his own fingers around it and shakes. “i kee-wo.”

“keewo?” valko’s chest blooms at the first sign of trust. something ancient and instinctive stirring in him that tells him now he must protect.

“no, kee-wo!”

“kee-ro?” valko tries again.

confirmation never comes.

“why have eews?” kyros asks instead. now having broken the wall, he begins to quickly forget he was even shy in the first place. he hovers his hands over his own head, where he sees the faint glow of phantom ears on this stranger’s head. “vakoo, why have eews?”

“you can see them?” he should worry. but he smiles broadly, fangs glimmering in delight. he made sure to use most of his active efforts to hide his true form when in public. and up until this point, he believed that he had a pretty good talent at looking unremarkable.

“ee-yors?” lucian scrambles in his arms, climbing a sturdy shoulder to get a closer look. “where, ee-yors?”

“mhm,” kyros stands on the chair now. he swishes his hips in a cute wiggle to visualize, “and taiw— wish wish.”

“like fox?!” lucian climbs and crawls over his new friend as if he were magnetic.

“hey!” valko yelps when the little ones circle him. one inspecting his tail closely while the other desperately tries to find it. “slow down! careful!”

he pauses his shuffling to watch kyros sniffing him. so… wolf-like and yet not.

intrigued, he asks. “what do you got?”

kyros sniffs the air in small snorts— like he’s congested but taking everything in still. “woofy.”

valko’s eyes widen at the simple conclusion. brows pinching, he thinks: these children are definitely different.

“ah! gotcha!” lucian squeals when he finally spots the faint glimmer of his tail. in an instant, the once hatchling transforms into a kitten, chasing a tail that refuses to be caught.

valko, contrary to the look on his face, revels in the discovery of other creatures that lurk in the dark. and that these very creatures, so different and yet so similar, can also thrive in the light.

he doesn’t know of the little ones’ evols, nor does he understand how they can see him as he truly is.

but the longer lucian lingers and scrambles to catch his tail or pet his ears— the more kyros sinks into the comfort of his presence and beams at the joy of his interactions; glows with a golden mist that brings clarity to illusion— the more certain small horns and wings begin to take form in their silhouettes.

and he understands now, that their father never left them defenseless in the first place.

[nogitsune-the]

Ahhhhh! I LOVE IT!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

[xxsyluslittlecrowxx]

For the Valko requests, I would love to see some cute family fluff between MC, Valko, his cousins, grandma, and his sister (I think he had a sister in his lore, correct me if I am wrong), because I want to see how MC would get along with Valko's family. 🐺

𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

synopsis: when valko brings you home for the first time, he warns you about everything: his grandmother’s food, his sister’s stare, his cousin’s stories, the family jokes that always cut too close. he forgets to warn you that love in his house is not gentle or quiet, but loud, practical, mercilessly observant, and served warm at the kitchen table. cw/tw: valko x reader. very soft domestic fluff. light family teasing. read here: ao3 ⋅ tumblr

Valko lost his nerve three steps from the door.

It was a small death, but you saw it happen; the brave lift of his chin, the twitch in his jaw, the small, tragic collapse of his entire face when a crash came from inside the house.

His hand tightened around yours.

“Dobro,” he said.

Another crash.

From inside, and older woman called, “If that's my good plate, I will put someone in the ground before supper.”

Valko closed his eyes. You turned toward him.

He opened one eyes. “She loves plates.”

“More than people?”

“Depends on the people.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and relief moved through him all at once, softening his shoulders, loosening the frightened line of his mouth. He'd been nervous all morning. Badly nervous. Valko, who could grin with blood on his teeth and make danger look like a door he'd simply forgotten to knock on, had spent the whole walk here giving you warnings no sane person could have prepared for.

Do not let Mika read your palm. He makes things up and then believes them.

Do not compliment Baba's curtains unless you want curtains.

Do not say you're full.

And, most importantly, if anyone mentions the soup incident, Valko had said, grave as a condemned man, they're lying.

You had asked what the soup incident was.

He had started to walk faster.

Now he stood before the old wooden door with your fingers caught in his, trying to look calm and producing, somehow, the exact expression of a wolf about to be bathed.

“Valko,” you said softly.

“Yes?”

“You're shaking.”

“I'm not shaking.”

“You are.”

“I’m containing myself.”

“From what?”

“Hereditary embarrassment.”

The door flew open.

A girl about his age stood on the other side, dark-eyed and grinning, with flour on her cheek and murder in her posture. She took one look at Valko’s hand around yours, then lifted her gaze to his face with the slow delight of someone finding a knife exactly where she had hoped one would be.

A slow smile cut across her face.

“Oh,” she smirked. “So this is why you changed your shirt twice.”

Valko made a sound. Small, wounded, entirely unlike a wolf.

“I changed once.”

“You changed twice. The first shirt was the blue one. The second was the one that made you look like you were going to court. This...This is the third.”

His ears went red.

The woman held out her hand to you. “Milena. His sister.”

“Unfortunately,” Valko added.

“Fortunately. Without me, you'd still think soap is optional in winter.”

“It isn't optional.”

“Because of me.”

You took Milena's hand. Her grip was warm, firm, and full of judgement she hadn't yet decided to use.

Behind her, the house breathed out heat. Bread, onions, some in old wood, something sweet cooling on a counter. There were voices everywhere, layered and crossing. One person laughing while another complained, a child humming under a table, chairs scraping, a kettle whistling like a bird losing patience.

Milena stepped aside. “Come in before Baba starts saying we were raised by wolves.”

Valko muttered, “We were.”

She looked at him. “And still, some of us learned manners.”

You crossed the threshold. The house was smaller than the noise made it seem, or maybe the noise had simply learned to fill every corner. Framed photographs climbed the walls in crooked rows. Herbs hung drying above the kitchen window. Nothing matched, and yet everything looked touched, mended, argued over... kept.

Valko leaned close as he helped you out of your coat.

“Last chance,” he whispered. “We can run.”

You looked past him to where an old woman stood near the stove, hands folded over her apron, watching you with bright, wolfish eyes.

“Too late,” you whispered back. “I think she heard you.”

“I hear everything,” the old woman said.

Valko went still.

Milena smiled into her shoulder.

The old woman crossed the kitchen with the slow authority of someone who had ruled this house before any of them had teeth. She was small, broad in the shoulders, silver-haired, with flour on her wrist and no softness wasted in her face. The softness, you realised, was elsewhere. In the bread covered by a towel, in the chair pulled out before you reached it, in the way Valko lowered his head without being asked when she came close.

“Baba,” he said, and for the first time that day, his voice lost its jokes.

She, of course, ignored him.

Instead, she took your face between both hands.

Her palms smelled of rosemary, yeast, and soap. Her thumbs rested beneath your cheekbones, and for one strange second the whole house seemed to lean closer. The cousins, the kettle, the old boards, even Valko, holding his breath beside you.

“So,” Baba Vesna said. “You are the reason he forgets to eat.”

“I eat,” Valko protested.

Teta Marika appeared by the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “You came here last week, opened the pantry, stared at a sack of potatoes for six minutes, then said, ‘I wonder what she’s doing.’”

“That was taken out of context.”

“What was the context?” you asked, because love had made you brave and terrible.

Valko looked betrayed. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

A boy leaning backwards on his chair nearly lost balance from laughing, another cousin caught the chair by its back without looking up from peeling an apple.

Baba Vesna patted your cheek once and released you. “Sit, dušo. Eat something before my family embarrass me properly.”

Valko gave a strangled laugh. “Before?”

No one listened to him.

You were placed at the long wooden table as if the decision had been made before you arrived. A bowl appeared, then bread, then butter, then a small plate of pickled vegetables. Teta Marika, Valko's aunt, kissed the air beside your cheeks and took the small gift you had brought. Mika announced that he already knew your favourite colour from Valko’s face. Luka told him that was the stupidest sentence ever spoken in the kitchen, which Mika accepted as praise. The little one beneath the table emerged, solemn and bread-dusted, and introduced himself as Niko.

“Are you going to marry him?” Niko asked.

Valko walked directly into the side of a chair.

The whole kitchen paused. You pressed your lips together.

Milena leaned against the doorway, radiant with cruelty. “Careful, Niko. Val only has two knees.”

“Niko,” Teta Marika turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “We ask guests if they want juice first.”

Niko nodded, absorbing this etiquette with grave importance. “Do you want juice before you marry him?”

Valko covered his face with both hands. You bit down on your smile so hard it almost hurt. This wasn't what you had expected.

Some foolish, frightened part of you had imagined a den in the old sense. Teeth, watchful eyes, a family arranged around blood and law, waiting to decide whether your bones could be allowed near theirs. Valko had never spoken of them casually. Whenever he said home, something tender and embarrassed moved through him, as though the word itself had fingers and knew exactly where to touch.

Now you sat beneath a crooked lamp while his grandmother tore bread with her hands and put the first piece on your plate.

“Eat,” Baba Vesna said.

You obeyed.

The bread was warm enough to steam between your fingers. The crust cracked softly, butter melted into it in golden lines. Across the table, Valko watched you take the first bite as if your mouth held judgment from heaven.

You chewed. Swallowed.

“It’s delicious.”

Baba Vesna clicked her tongue. “Of course it is wonderful. I made it.”

Mika leaned towards you. “He talked about you after the market yesterday.”

Valko’s hand hit the table. “No.”

“Yes, you did” Luka said sticking his tongue out.

“No.”

“You said, and I quote, 'she chooses fruit with such care'.”

The table went quiet for half a breath, your hand stilled around the bread. Valko looked at Luka as if betrayal had entered the room wearing his cousin’s face.

“That was private.”

“You said it in the kitchen.”

“That makes it private.”

Milena sat across from you and rested her chin in her hand. “He also said you have kind hands.”

Valko’s mouth opened, nothing came out. Your heart did something foolish inside your chest.

The teasing had worked him bright and flustered, but beneath it, something softer trembled. He was embarrassed, yes. Horribly, so. Beautifully, so. Yet the thing underneath was more dangerous than shame. This was exposure. A curtain pulled open in a room he had spent so long keeping dim.

He had spoken of you here.

At this table. In this warm, loud house. To these people who teased him because they knew what he looked like with no armour on. He had brought you home long before he ever brought your body through the door.

Baba Vesna filled your bowl with soup.

“He was always like this,” she said.

“Baba, please.”

“He was a strange child,” she said.

Valko groaned. “Please.”

“A sweet child,” Teta Marika corrected.

“A dramatic child,” Luka said.

“A biting child,” Milena added.

Valko pointed at her. “You bit first.”

“You looked biteable.”

“You see what I mean?” Valko turned to you with helpless outrage. “This is what I survived.”

There was love in it, the kind that had been cooked too long and reduced into something strong enough to stain. They spoke to him as if they had known every version of him and chosen, again and again, to keep putting food in front of whichever one came home.

You looked at him while he argued with Mika about whether a stolen spoon counted as a childhood trauma.

He caught you looking. For a moment, the noise thinned.

There he was.

Valko with his hair refusing every law of decency. Valko trying so hard to survive his own family and failing beautifully. His eyes met yours with a nervous brightness that made you want to reach across the table and be cruel to every fear that had ever found him.

Then Niko pointed his spoon at you.

“Are you keeping him?”

The kitchen stopped.

Valko made a tiny sound into his bowl.

Milena closed her eyes as if praying for patience and finding none. “Niko.”

“What? Mika said maybe she is keeping him.”

His gaze dropped to the table, to the bread by his hand, to the small old cuts in the wood. The blush still clung to him, but it had changed into something quieter now. Hope, perhaps. Or terror wearing hope’s coat.

You could have laughed. Everyone would have let you. It would have been easy to throw the question back into the room like a toy and watch them tear it apart.

Instead, beneath the table, you found Valko’s hand.

His fingers closed around yours at once.

“I’d like to,” you said.

The house held itself still for half a breath.

Then Baba Vesna nodded, once, as if some old contract had been signed in soup and honey.

“Good,” she said. “He is difficult, but warm.”

Valko bowed his head.

His shoulders shook.

At first you thought he was upset. Then you realised he was laughing, quietly, helplessly, with one hand over his mouth and the other holding yours under the table like he meant to keep it there until winter.

Mika groaned. “Ah, look at him. Finished. Completely finished.”

Milena reached for the pickles. “Good. He needed finishing.”

Teta Marika smiled into her tea. “Eat more, zlato. You will need strength.”

“For Valko?” you asked.

“For all of us.”

Dinner became less a meal than a storm with chairs.

Bowls moved, hands reached, stories climbed over one another and died unfinished because someone remembered a better accusation. Luka asked you practical questions in a calm voice: where you liked to walk, whether Valko had shown you the old river path, whether he still pretended not to like sweet things. Mika tried to read your palm and declared that you were fated to own a troublesome dog.

“That's just Valko,” Milena said.

“I am not a dog.”

“True,” Luka said. “Dogs listen.”

Valko began quietly placing the best pieces of food on your plate.

A soft carrot, the inside of the bread, a dumpling he pretended to move away from himself and somehow abandoned beside your spoon. He was not subtle. He had never been subtle. He was a wolf trying to hide a whole deer behind a napkin.

You noticed on the fourth offering.

His family noticed on the first.

Baba Vesna said nothing until Valko tried to give you the last honey cake. Then she leaned back in her chair and looked at him over her tea.

“Ah,” she said.

Valko froze.

It was one syllable. It landed like a bell.

“What?” he said.

“No, no.” She waved him off. “Continue. Starve for romance. Very noble.”

Mika threw his head back.

You picked up the honey cake before Valko could die at the table and broke it in two, placing half on his plate. “There,” you said. “No starving.”

He looked at the cake.

Then he looked at you.

His expression opened in a way that made the room, somehow, feel too small for your heart. It opened with that unguarded, bewildered softness he sometimes gave you when kindness arrived before he had prepared himself to receive it.

Milena saw it.

Her teasing quieted.

For a moment, she only watched him with something old and protective in her face.

Then she stood. “Come help me with plates.”

Valko blinked. “Me?”

“Her.” Milena pointed at you.

Valko frowned. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“That's not a reason.”

“It has worked on you for years.”

You rose before he could protest again. Milena took two plates from the table and handed you none of them, which told you at once that this had nothing to do with helping.

She led you down a narrow hallway lined with photographs.

Behind you, Valko’s voice rose. “Do not interrogate her.”

The hallway smelled faintly of beeswax and dried herbs. The noise of the kitchen softened behind you, still there, still golden, but now wrapped in walls. Milena stopped by a window overlooking the yard and leaned her hip against the sill.

For the first time all evening, she let the smile leave her face.

“He likes you,” she said.

You smiled gently. “I got that impression.”

“No.” Her eyes flicked towards the kitchen. “He likes people easily. He likes old men who tell bad stories, stray cats that scratch him, children who throw rocks at windows because they want attention. Valko is built stupid that way.”

A laugh escaped you.

Milena folded her arms.

“He brings things home,” she continued. “Broken things, angry things. Things he thinks no one else will be gentle with.” Her gaze moved towards the kitchen, where Valko’s voice lifted in protest. “He does not bring people home.”

Your throat tightened.

From the kitchen, Valko shouted, “It wasn't soup. It was stew.”

Mika shouted back, “Stew cannot make a grown man cry.”

“I was overwhelmed by flavour.”

Milena closed her eyes for one second. “Bože, give me strength.”

You laughed softly.

She looked at you again, sharper now.

“He was nervous all week,” she said. “Changed his shirt three times. Asked me if the house smelled too much like onions. Asked Luka if his laugh was strange. Asked Baba if she could please not tell the story about the goat.”

“The goat?”

“Later.” A faint smile touched her mouth. “Maybe never.”

You glanced back towards the kitchen.

He had asked if his laugh was strange.

Something in you ached with such tenderness that it almost felt like anger.

You looked down.

“He didn’t need to worry,”

“He is clumsy with precious things,” she said. “Because he thinks his hands are only good for breaking them, even when he is careful. Especially then.”

“So be kind,” she said. “Or be cruel quickly. He will survive either, but I prefer to know which one I’m dealing with.”

There it was.

The knife under the table. The love with its teeth intact. You didn't resent her for it, you thought, strangely, that you liked her more for it.

“I’m not here to hurt him,”

“Most people aren’t, at first.”

“Milena.”

Milena’s gaze narrowed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with him,” you admitted.

“With any of this,” you continued. “He makes everything feel…” You searched for the word and hated every pretty one that came. Fated. Wild. Tender. All too polished for the mess he made of your heart. “He makes everything feel like I’ve been walking past a door my whole life, and he is the idiot who opened it with his shoulder.”

Milena stared at you.

Then she laughed once, sharp and startled.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re gone too.”

You looked down, caught.

She seemed satisfied. “Good.”

“Is that approval?”

“That is me deciding not to be difficult.”

“You were being difficult?”

“Dušo,” she said, and now her smile had teeth in it, “I was being polite.”

When you returned to the kitchen, Valko was waiting near the doorway as if he had tried to remain seated and failed.

His eyes moved from you to Milena. “What did you say to her?”

Milena walked past him. “That you were adopted.”

“I’m not.”

“Emotionally, you're a wet dog we found in the rain.”

He watched her go, wounded on principle, then turned to you with genuine concern. “What did she actually say?”

You reached up and brushed flour from his sleeve. “That you’re warm.”

“That was Baba.”

“Family consensus.”

His mouth twitched. “You are enjoying this.”

“I am.”

“You were supposed to be intimidated.”

“By Mika?”

“By the bloodline. The history. The general atmosphere of teeth.”

“Mika told me my palm says I’ll own a dog.”

Valko sighed.

You reached up and plucked the dish towel from his shoulder. “You have flour on your sleeve.”

He looked down, surprised, as if his own body had been making decisions without him. Then he looked back at you, and the kitchen noise faded once more, though this time it was only the two of you making the world small.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The question was casual enough for anyone else to miss the tremor underneath. You heard it. The naked, waiting part. You thought of his hand shaking outside the door. Baba Vesna taking your face between her palms, of bread steaming in your fingers, of honey cake divided in two, of Milena saying he doesn't bring people home.

“I’m all right,” you said. “Are you?”

Valko smiled too quickly. “I’m alive.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

His smile softened.

For once, he did not joke immediately. It cost him something. You could see it in the way his fingers flexed at his side, reaching for mischief and finding courage instead.

“I wanted them to like you,” he said. “I wanted you to like them.”

“I do”

“I wanted…” He stopped, then laughed under his breath. “I don’t know. Something stupid.”

He looked towards the kitchen, where his family had resumed their noise without mercy. Mika was accusing Luka of stealing the larger piece of cake. Baba Vesna had taken down a tin from the highest shelf, probably containing either biscuits or secrets.

“Valko, stop hiding her. I have photographs.”

Horror returned to his face with magnificent speed.

“No.”

“Yes,”

“No photographs.”

“Naked baby photos,” Mika added.

Valko went pale. “You do not have those.”

Teta Marika’s voice drifted after him, serene and deadly. “We have everything.”

He grabbed your hand. “We’re leaving.”

You let him pull you three steps before Baba Vesna appeared in the doorway holding a small album to her chest.

“Sit,” she said.

Valko sat.

It was remarkable how quickly a wolf could become a grandson.

For the next hour, they showed you the evidence of his life.

Valko missing two front teeth and glaring at the camera as though betrayed by dentistry. Valko asleep under the table with one hand buried in a dog’s fur. Valko at thirteen, all elbows and outrage, holding a fish half his size while crying because he had to put it back.

There was Valko covered in mud, Valko wearing a paper crown, Valko with Milena’s arm hooked around his neck while he pretended to hate her and leaned into her anyway. Valko standing beside Baba Vesna in the garden, holding a basket of tomatoes like he had been entrusted with the fate of nations.

Each photograph was another small door.

You had known him in pieces: the grin, the hunger, the awkward tenderness, the jokes he threw like branches over deep water. Here was the rest of him. Here was the child who had survived becoming himself because these hands had fed him, scolded him, dragged him upright, and remembered his softness when he tried to outgrow it.

At some point, while everyone argued over whether the goat incident happened before or after the soup incident, Valko bent close to you.

“You don’t have to keep looking,” he murmured.

You turned a page.

A tiny Valko stared up from the album, holding a wooden spoon like a sword.

“Yes,” you said. “I do.”

He stared at you.

Then, very briefly, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

It lasted only a second. A shy, exhausted surrender. No one commented on it, though you knew every person in the room saw. That seemed to be another house rule. They would mock the wound, yes, but they protected the pulse.

Later, when the cups were cleared and the album returned to its shelf of holy embarrassments, you stepped outside for air.

The yard was cold, dark and soft around the edges. Herbs grew beneath the window, yhe old trees leaned towards the house as if listening. Behind you, the kitchen glowed gold, laughter pressing against the glass.

Valko followed after a moment, closing the door carefully behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You looked at him. “For what?”'

“The interrogation. The photographs. Mika. The marriage question. The soup litigation.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Milena.”

“I like Milena.”

“That means she behaved.”

“She said she was being polite.”

He winced. “Then she liked you.”

You leaned back against the porch railing, and he stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets, rocking once on his heels like he wanted to come closer and had forgotten the law of his own body.

Through the window, you could see Baba Vesna pretending to wipe the table while watching you both with shameless interest. You lifted a hand and waved.

She waved back.

Valko turned, saw her, and groaned. “For the love of...Baba.”

“She loves you.”

“That's her usual excuse for crimes.”

“It’s a good one.”

He looked back at you, and the teasing left him slowly, piece by piece. Out here, with the house at his back, he seemed caught between the wild thing and the loved thing. The wolf and the boy in the paper crown. The man who had brought you to the threshold with shaking hands and still tried to joke like fear could be made harmless if he gave it a funny name.

“Did you mean it?” he asked.

“Which part?”

“When Niko asked if you were keeping me.”

The question came lightly, too lightly. A feather laid over a blade.

You reached for him.

This time, Valko did not hesitate. He came into your space at once, as if pulled by a string tied somewhere behind his ribs. His hands settled at your waist, careful at first, then warmer when you didn't move away.

“I meant it,”

His eyes searched yours.

“For tonight?”

“For longer than that.”

He didn't kiss you immediately. Somehow, that made it worse. He stood there and let the answer enter him, slowly, like someone opening the door to a room he had been told was empty and finding it lit.

Inside, Mika yelled, “Are they kissing?”

Valko dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

“Leave them. He is finally being normal.”

You laughed.

He looked at you then, and the last of his embarrassment broke open into something bright, something almost boyish

“Welcome home,” he said, very softly.

You touched his cheek.

Behind him, the old house breathed and creaked and held its golden noise. Inside, his family waited with tea, teeth, stories, and a place at the table already made yours.

“Welcome home, Valko.”

© 2026, xxsyluslittlecrowxx. dividers by @uzmacchiato

[skzyeri]

stiles stilinski fic recs

F - fluff S - smut A - angst ♡ - series ☆ - one shot ◇ - imagines and drabbles

last updated - 27/05/2026 ⤷ fic count - 44

@bamboozledbird ——————————

☆ goodbye n go | F. ⤷ the thing is, stiles isn’t an idiot. he’s stupid, but he isn’t dumb. he knows that it’s not normal to think about your best friend like this. that being so intensely attuned to the curve of her spine when she stretches or the hint of citrus that clings to her hair after she showers isn’t exactly platonic. 

@bellsamorelle ——————————

☆ do you feel bonita? | F. ⤷ kissing stiles and the lipstick of yours transfers to his, laughing when doesn’t notice it.

@bonniebird ——————————

☆ stiles stilinski x fem!reader | F. ⤷ "i can name three werewolves and one scandalous fact about the barbie franchise, does that help?"

@castielsloversblog ——————————

☆ stiles stilinski x fem!reader | F. ⤷ the second the catcall hit the air, you felt the shift. stiles immediately tensed beside you, his body going rigid as his jaw tightened. you could tell by the way his eyes darted to the guy that he was already weighing his options, whether to confront the guy, ignore it, or somehow make the awkward situation go away.

@companionjones ——————————

☆ first you knew susika, then, you knew stiles | A. ☆ stuck in traffic | F. ⤷ you meet a boy while stuck in a traffic jam.

@crybabystilinski ——————————

◇ first kiss | F. S.

@dancingwithdylan21 ——————————

☆ single | F. ⤷ stiles tries to plan a camping trip for his son and the reader doesn’t make it easy for him.

@djobriens ——————————

◇ stiles with reader who has a resting bitch face

@elovestowrite ——————————

◇ stiles x witch!longtimebestfriend!reader headcanons

@em-ontv ——————————

☆ hit and fall | F. ⤷ stiles has been pining after you for years now, and this was his chance to woo you, at a lacrosse game, but nothing ever really goes his way, does it?

@exlnk ——————————

☆ void!stiles stilinski x afab!reader | S.

@fairyyobrien ——————————

☆ avoided love | F. ⤷ (this takes place in Season 3b. void stiles x reader) *no major warnings just be prepared to be turned on by badass stiles* (make out sesh)

@fclsebnnyodair ——————————

☆ loser stiles and his out-of-his-league pretty girlfriend | F. ⤷ when stiles finally asks you to be his girlfriend and you say yes, he can’t believe it —and he’s not the only one. you two come in very different fonts. but, you’re so quick to prove him and his self-deprecation that you like him, fully and shamelessly.

@itsjustrosee ——————————

☆ needs | S. - [void!sties x fem!reader] ⤷ stiles and the reader have a flirty-friendship, but aren't in an established relationship. when stiles gets possessed by the nogitsune, he comes to the readers house who is unaware that he's been possessed. ☆ let me take care of you | S. - [void!stiles x fem!reader] ⤷ stiles and reader are in an established relationship, however reader doesn't know that stiles got possessed by the nogistun (sorry I don't know how to spell it) and is now void.

@magical-reid ——————————

☆ in another league | F. ⤷ stiles stilinski, caught in his usual whirlwind of chaos and awkwardness, finds himself hopelessly smitten by you after you unknowingly rock his world by wearing his lacrosse jersey at the pep rally. in a moment of fate, you tease him with a casual compliment, leaving stiles both flustered and hopeful that maybe, just maybe, you’re beginning to notice him too.

@mydearzero ——————————

☆ bribes | S. ⤷ you get paired with stiles to write a paper for coach's class. but when had stilinski grown into his awkward features? when had he grown out his buzzcut? why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

@nogitsune-the ——————————

☆ baby steps | A. ⤷ it wasn’t expected and it had all happend so fast, one minute you are sitting in the car heading towards school the next you wake up in the hospital learning you might not ever walk again.

@perseephoneee ——————————

☆ secret santa | F. ⤷ "why did lydia think this was a good idea?" stiles groaned, opening the 'secret santa email.' scott was sitting on his bed doing homework while Stiles debated the merits of ignoring the email. 

@seasprincess ——————————

☆ stiles stilinski x female reader | F. ⤷ a chemistry project with a lot of chemistry ◇ kissing practice with bf!stiles | F. S. ⤷ stiles stilinski has never had a girlfriend. well not until now. but seeing as he’s not had a girlfriend before. he doesn’t know a lot of…relationship things. ◇ this drabble | F. ⤷ stiles stilinski cares more about his girlfriend than anyone else. even himself.

@spiderwcd ——————————

☆ get well soon | F. ⤷ y/n has been married to stiles for a year now. but has bills and loans to pay off. when she gets sick, it’s up to stiles to take care of her. ☆ take care of yourself | A. ⤷ the group is searching for their parents and y/n is a psychic and agreed to help them after draining her battery. will she pull through?

@star--stilinski ——————————

☆ stiles stilinski x reader | F. ⤷ at first, stiles didn't even notice it. the way his heart would race and his cheeks would flush; he was used to having that reaction around you. so used to it, in fact, that he had stopped letting it be a distraction. you'd giggle at his joke or look up at him through your lashes and he'd blush, fidget, move on. like his own little routine.

@star-girl-05 ——————————

☆ we're dating? | F. ⤷ “i’m your girlfriend?”

@star--stilinski ——————————

☆ stiles stilinski x reader | F. S. ⤷ wow, you're so fucked. stiles is standing next to you, a sweaty beacon of pride as he chats with scott and isaac excitedly, his lacrosse uniform still on and not making things any easier for you.

@stargrillzz ——————————

☆ not exactly your tipe | F. ⤷ the most popular and hottest girl...into stiles?

@strawberryglock ——————————

☆ how many drinks? | S. ⤷ a dirty lunchroom hypothetical gets stiles hot and bothered. hopefully no one notices the suspicious placement of his hands over his crotch, especially not you. ♡ stilinski's reputation | S. ⤷ "whatever you do, avoid number twenty-four at all costs"

@sundrop-writes ——————————

☆ blood in the water | A. - [void!stiles] ⤷ being stiles's best friend, you are incredibly worried about him when you figure out that he is quite literally not himself - and that the thing currently occupying his body could be destroying it in the process. when you approach him to show this concern, void takes a particular interest in you. he's not capable of love, or even fondness, but he likes you. and he likes the way your fear spikes when you talk about stiles. so he makes you a deal - he'll agree to take care of this fleshy, mortal host, in exchange for something more precious, more rare, and more delicious than the meal you have brought for stiles. he wants your pain. he wants your tears. ♡ brainwashed | S. ⤷ stiles likes you. he really, really, really likes you. it’s bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control. so when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they’re in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. but he can’t find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock. ⤷ [ part 2 ] ◇ mister mxyztlk

@swansimagines ——————————

◇ imagine being derek’s sister and him finding out that you’re secretly dating stiles

@tomsparkyr ——————————

☆ motel california | F. S. ⤷ when coach tells people the room requirements and the 'no sexual perversions perpetrated' rule by the so-called 'little deviants', it only makes the couple want to break that rule even more.

@touchtheinvisiblestars ——————————

◇ found you

@uhhhj13iguess ——————————

☆ that was the best sleep i've had in months | F. ⤷ after the horrors of mexico, stiles is absolutely exhausted. it seems you were feeling the same. ☆ kiss it better | F. A. ⤷ like the stydia kiss in season three when stiles is having a panic attack, except you're the one panicking and he kisses you! ☆ in his flannel | F. ⤷ you show up for a study session in a particular choice of clothing ☆ stiles, are you hard right now? | S. ⤷ you and stiles make a break for the supply closet the second a fight breaks out at the bank. a series of unfortunate events ensues.

@ursogorgeous13 ——————————

☆ in between stile stilinski | F. S. ⤷ when entering university you never once thought you would find romance, after all you were there for an education. you get paired up with a guy from your psychology class, which happens to blossom a friendship and soon after a relationship.

@voidangxls ——————————

☆ "you're coach's daughter!?" | F. ⤷ you and stiles have been talking recently but he finds out who your dad is.

@voltronisanobsession ——————————

◇ being stiles' twin - [platonic!reader]

[nogitsune-the]

Thank you so much for including me in a list with all these amazing writers ❤️❤️

[serenitaria]

love bleeds in daturas (s. qin)

what if reader were pregnant when her dragon died?

w.c: 2,162 || somewhat proofread warnings: somewhat angsty a/n: inspire by this beautiful artwork done by @art-by-ady

the sun sets on another day but you can't enjoy it. not the way you used to with your dragon. with his scales wrapped around you and you both gaze upon the pinks and purples of the horizon bleed into blues. with his scales scaling up and down your body absentmindedly. three months. it's been three months since that day, since...the end of a lifeline.

you'd spent the first month alone, surviving off of the last of foods he collected. the second, you'd started collecting and adding to the cave, wanting something familiar. by the third, you'd begun to feel sick, it's not like you were taking the best of care of yourself. everything felt like a weight on your legs - eating, cleaning yourself and living, things that had felt so normal with him, felt like a noose around your neck. why not just follow after him, you thought.

your will to live seemed to dwindle with each passing day but something started to feel...different. you'd somehow been eating more and more. it was strange, you hadn't had such a vigor for eating in months. it all came to a head one night when your belly started cramping and your mind ran across something important.

when was your last lunar cycle?

you sit up from your bed of pelts and you genuinely could not recall having it since he left. a time of the month that was once simply a part of life, another thing that became so beautiful and gentle with him. he always ensured you rested more and had the heartiest of stews and meats once the smell of blood became stronger. maybe the grief had disrupted your body. you gently place a hand on your stomach to feel around and you notice that you had gotten fuller. a lot fuller.

you'd heard women from the nearby village speak about this.

you were with child. somehow you had a strong feeling you were right.

a piece of him. you would live, if only to experience him again and give him better that what he was given.

________________________________________________________________

"two beautiful boys dearie, wonderful job" the midwife you'd met months prior praises you but all you could look at was what was laying next to you.

you'd met mrs. jiang while you were returning from a food trip when you'd passed five months. she'd gently chided you for carrying so much weight when you were so full with child. now that you think back, you should have realized it wouldn't be one baby. when you'd mentioned that i was only you, she softened and helped you home. you'd learned that she had served as a midwife in a neighboring kingdom for 10 years before moving after her husband's death. she'd somehow stuck around, with you coming to her home once a week to check on you - at her request. she'd never pried. she simply attached herself to you so when your labor pains had begun in the cave, she somehow found her way there.

you look on at the two wriggling babies next to you. staring at them for a few minutes before mrs. jiang's voice bring you out of your hypnotized state.

"what shall you call them?" she gazes at you while drying her hands with a cloth.

"luke and kieran." you'd seen those names in your dreams for the latter half of your pregnancy and you knew that it had to be their names.

________________________________________________________________

"my sweetest boys, i wish your father were here to see you." another night of laying next to them as they sleep. you'd been doing it to help them sleep but it often extended to well after they were out. you watched as their little chests rose and fell with their breaths and their cheeks fluffed up and down. they looked so much like him. same with their hair, same dragon horns and markings. they were just like their father, beautiful.

you brush luke's hair back before gently patting kieran's stomach, surely full from all the milk he'd eaten.

he should have been here. he would have adored them. done everything he could to give them better than what he had. burned the world anew so they would not even think the cruelty he went through was possible.

when you finally decided to settle for sleep, you found your thoughts running to him again.

'Don't worry, I am not alone. I bound your soul to me so you can find me. Find us. In another life perhaps. I named them. Luke and Kieran. Our sons. Or maybe they will find you.'

that is the last thought you remember before drifting off.

________________________________________________________________

"Fahliiv mu dathra" kieran says while looking at a photo in the boss' living hallway. a garden of daturas.

"what did you just say?" sylus emerges, unsure if he'd heard right.

"umm boss..." "what did you say?"he repeats again, silencing luke's attempt at any interruption.

these two mysterious boys showed up on sylus' doorstep a few months prior and never left. they'd asked for a place at onychinus and sylus didn't even get to tell them no. strangely, he couldn't tell them no. everytime he looked at them, he'd felt these strong feelings he couldn't described. something about them is familiar. he couldn't place it for a while but he still allowed them to stay, the silver streaks in their hair mirroring his own silver locks.

"Fahliiv mu dathra," kieran says a bit more confidently, his eyes gauging what sylus' reaction could take.

he hadn't heard that in so long. he hadn't heard it in this lifetime. he squints his eyes to decipher whether the twins are playing some weird joke. either way, where could they have heard that? when he sees their expressions remain, he decides to question again.

"where did you learn that?" he decides a new line of questioning.

"...our mother" he could hear the nervousness in his voice. that answer left him confused and the twins took it as a signal to keep going.

"our mother told us it was a funny thing between her and our father. an attempt when she first tried to learn his language."

"learn my language." they both end at the same time. he takes a clear look at their face and he finally sees. it's you. in both of them. but it's also him.

sylus' mind was beginning to spin with one thought. you were pregnant. with his children. you were with child. and you were alone in that cave. he feels sick. but he also feels happy. he had sons.

"was your mother-?" the twins see the gears turning in his head and decides it was now or never.

"yes, she was." luke confirms and his heart does something. it sinks and explodes all at the same time. he slowly moves to his living room and finds the couch, with the two boys in tow.

"how did you know that i was your father?" he takes one thing at a time.

"she used to draw a sketches of a man and one night we heard her saying she missed you. we kinda put things together there considering she mentioned 'his beauitful silver hair.'" luke answered and kieran continues "there were nights she'd cry herself to sleep with the parchment clutched in her hands." this breaks sylus. he's not someone who cries. he willed himself to not cry time and time again but tears seemed to disobey and cloud his vision.

"we started seeing you in our dreams two years ago and simply thought it meant nothing until we saw you while working an auction last year." luke admits and sylus doesn't even recall seeing them then.

"mom doesn't remember us?" his tone sounds disappointed, especially since he'd seen sylus sitting at his desk once mephisto return from astra knows where, with her photos appearing on his computer screen, and sylus decides to be honest, with everything now in the open.

"she doesn't. not yet. but i'm going to make sure she will." he proclaims and he sees the two in front of him visibly perk up. he explains that you haven't even met in this lifetime but you are a hunter in Linkon.

he awkwardly pulls them both and gives them a firm hug, his emotions needing somewhere to go. this was definitely new territory but soon he would have you back and you could both finally be a family.

he would take a bit of time to process what the boys have told him but what he does immediately know is that what was between you and him was real. these boys were living proof of the love you both planted among the daturas.

"Fahliiv mu dathra " - "Love in my daturas" || reader had made a simple mistake and meant love of my daturas' and it became something endearing between her and sylus. a/n: quickly remembered that the writing itch does NOT care what priorities you have and you have to write before it leaves. the art piece by @art-by-ady absolutely floored me and had me in tears for a few minutes(as per my comment on the post lol) so please take a look it to see where this idea came from.

comments, likes and reblogs aren't mandatory but are very much appreciated. thank you <3

masterlist

sereitaria || please do not copy, steal or translate my work. and do NOT feed my works into any ai.

[art-by-ady]

What if: MC was pregnant when Dragon Sylus died 🥹

Story update from @soldiershunterswitchesandroyals : unsure if this will actually be done by the goal I had set for mother's day. The twins have decided they want this to be longer than I originally intended as a one shot. Good chance I might end up doing multi chapters on this since I'm no where near done and haven't started editing it. So if it's not completed by mother's day I will at least post the first chapter. I plan on giving my beta reader access to it so they can at least read that so we can have a Sunday post as planned

Art commission and story idea by @soldiershunterswitchesandroyals I was honestly crying my heart out while creating the panels.

I love this idea so much ✨

This is the music in my head while creating the art

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Snippet of fic:

“…uhh,” you said slowly. “Aang…you might wanna see this.”

Something in your tone made him pause.

“…what did they break?” he asked, already walking toward you.

“Nothing,” you said.

“That’s worse.”

He reached you just as you leaned slightly to the side, pointing into the small hut built off the side of the house, the one meant for “temporary animal use” that had very quickly stopped being temporary.

Aang looked inside, then froze.Because sitting in the middle of the hut, was Momo who was curled protectively around Skilo ( your lemur ) her tail wrapped loosely around his.

And nestled between them....Two tiny, fuzzy, chirping babies.

Small bodies. Oversized ears. Tiny tails twitching as they wiggled closer to their parents.

Aang’s eyes went wide. “…babies.”

You leaned slightly closer to Aang. “…and uh…look out the window.”

Aang blinked, turned and immediately lost his mind.

“BABY APPAS!!!!”

He didn’t even finish the sentence before he was moving, vaulting out the window without a second thought, bare feet hitting the ground as he sprinted into the yard.

“APPA AND SURA HAD BABIES!”

[nogitsune-the]

Rebloging so I can go back and read this again later and more later❤️

[nogitsune-the]

Scam going around be careful

Don't know how many people will sre this but there is a scam going around where people claim they mass reported you, don't add the discord person they send you!

Hopefully the person who messaged me gets their account back as I've followed them for 8 years !

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

You’d been on the bed for a while, flat on your back, doing nothing in particular. Xavier was at his desk doing the quiet, focused kind of nothing that looked like everything, eyes on the screen, completely still except for the occasional blink. You watched the back of his head for a moment before you said it.

“Xavier.”

“Yes?”

“Come lie on me.”

The typing stopped. He turned his head, not fully, just enough to look at you sideways. “Lie on you?”

“Yeah. Full body. I want the pressure.”

He pushed back from the desk and approached the bed, pausing at the edge to look down at you, then at the available space, then at you again.

“Face up or down?” he asked.

“What?”

“Do you want my face—”

“Just—however. Come on.”

When he lowered himself down it was careful—both forearms coming to rest on either side of you first, taking his own weight before he let it drop slowly. His face ended up tucked against your neck, which didn’t seem to be something he’d planned, but he didn’t adjust it. The solid press of him settled over you immediately—warm, grounding, real in the way that things with actual weight always were. He fit against you more naturally than either of you expected.

His breathing evened out quickly. He didn’t fidget.

You moved your hand up into his hair without really thinking about it, and you could feel the small, almost the way his body loosened at the touch—enough that you nearly laughed.

“You’re going to fall asleep,” you pointed out.

“I am,” he agreed.

You scratched gently at his scalp and felt the quiet, involuntary way he pressed closer.

Neither of you moved for a long time after that.

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

He’d been standing at the kitchen counter reading through case notes when you came and leaned in the doorway. He didn’t look up, but the slight shift in his posture said he’d clocked you.

“Come lie down on me.”

“I’m in the middle of something.” Still not looking up.

“Zayne. Put it down.”

He did look up then. His gaze moved over your face. Then he set the papers down, stacked them, and came.

He sat on the edge of the bed first, his fingers brushing your ankle as he passed. Then he positioned himself with one arm sliding beneath you rather than leaving you flat, and his weight settled in—chest to chest, one leg draped over yours, his arm drawing across your back in a hold that was firm without being tight. He didn’t overthink the arrangement. He just settled, like he’d decided exactly how this was going to go before he even lay down.

“Your shoulders are tense,” he said.

“I know.”

Without fanfare, he reached up and pressed his thumb into the base of your neck, working a slow, deliberate circle. His mouth brushed your hairline, his nose nuzzling lightly against your skin. Then his hand moved once along your side—a slow drag from shoulder to waist—and stilled again, tucked around you like it belonged there.

Outside, rain had started against the window, faint and steady.

“Anything happen?”

“No. Just—” You exhaled. “Nothing. I just wanted this.”

You turned your face into his jaw, and he turned his into your hair, and the case notes stayed folded on the counter for the rest of the evening.

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

He’d been following you around the apartment for the better part of an hour for no discernible reason—picking things up, setting them back down, asking questions he didn’t wait for answers to. When you finally sat down on the bed, he appeared in the doorway within seconds, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

You looked at him. “Come here and lie down on me.”

He pointed at himself. “You want me to just… land on you?”

“Yes.”

“Like, fully?”

“Yes, Rafayel. Fully.”

He grinned, pushed off the doorframe, and made his way over. He flopped down onto you with a small bounce and then wriggled around adjusting himself until he was comfortable, which took longer than it needed to. He shifted his arms twice, nudged your shoulder with his nose, shifted again—and then finally, finally, went still. His face pressed into the side of your neck and stayed there, completely unapologetic about his weight.

“Okay,” he announced. “I’m here. I’ve arrived.”

“You really have.”

The weight of him was warm, and he had absolutely no intention of moving—obvious from the way his entire body went lax within about thirty seconds.

He went quiet. That lasted another thirty seconds before asking, “Am I doing it right?”

“You’re not doing anything, you’re just lying there.”

“I’m providing a service,” he said, muffled against your neck.

You laughed, and he made a smug noise against your collarbone. His lips pressed to the side of your throat. Then again, a little higher.

“Rafayel.”

“What? I’m just lying here.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

You looked at him across the room and said, “Come here and lie down on me.”

He looked at you. That attention of his settled over you and stayed there, and the faint curve at the corner of his mouth told you he’d already decided before he’d even moved.

“You want me, hm?” he asked, wanting to hear you say it.

“I did just say that.”

He crossed the room without a word and stood over you for a moment—just long enough to make you feel it—before he came down. One hand braced beside your head as he lowered his weight gradually, like he was giving you the chance to change your mind. The pressure of him arrived in stages; his chest against yours, his legs along yours, and then his face, finally level with your own.

He was warm and heavy, and he looked at you from this close without looking away. His hand moved from beside your head to your face—just the backs of his fingers, dragged slowly from your temple to your jaw, the touch so deliberate it barely felt like it counted.

Then he dropped his head. His lips pressed to your cheekbone and stayed. Move to your temple. Then his face tucked alongside yours, jaw against jaw, and he exhaled slowly against your skin like he’d been holding something and had only just let it go.

His eyes were still open. “Better?”

“Getting there.”

The amusement had mostly left his face. “You could have just said you wanted me close.”

“You’d have enjoyed that too much.”

He hummed. “And this I’m not enjoying?”

One arm wrapped beneath you. The hold was close—closer than the moment asked for, the kind of closeness that was its own answer to a question neither of you had said out loud.

His thumb traced your side, once. Then stilled.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

“Lie on me.”

He grinned. “Lie on you?”

“Full body. Right now.”

“So you want me to just—” He gestured vaguely between the two of you.

“Caleb.”

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it. Activating blanket mode.” He dropped onto the bed like it was the most natural thing he’d ever been asked, swung himself over you, and settled his weight down with no hesitation. One arm slid beneath your shoulders, the other spread flat across your back and pressed you gently in toward him as the rest of him came down. He was solid and warm, and he fit himself to you so easily it almost felt rehearsed.

You could feel the moment he actually settled—some tension in his shoulders that he’d been carrying all day quietly releasing, his body going heavier and softer at once. His thumb moved at your side, slow and rhythmic, not quite thinking about it.

A beat of silence.

“Is it working?” he asked.

“You’ve been on me for four seconds.”

“Right, right.” He lasted another ten before his hand moved to your forehead, fingers brushing across it slowly. His thumb traced the edge of your ear.

“You do this thing,” he said, voice dropping a little, “where you don’t ask for things until you really need them.”

You didn’t answer.

His arms tightened, pulling you further in. “I don’t mind. You can just say so.” He pressed his mouth to your temple and held it there a moment too long to be casual. “Anytime.”

The word landed somewhere it was meant to. You turned your face slightly toward him and felt him smile against your skin before he tucked his chin back down.

Based on this request.

[nogitsune-the]

I ask my sister to do this when un overstimulated I want this now 🫠❤️

[tsk11shm]

ingyentsim (n.) — mystery, enigma

your body washed up on the beach, unconcious, scarred, tangled in algae and… different from any other na’vi seen by metkayina clan. questions are left without any answer, when your eyes finally open, but not a single memory occurs in your mind. without a name, without a past, without any familiar face around you, you need to learn how to navigate your new life, connect with new people and discover where did you came from.

reader x various avatar characters (aged up neteyam, lo’ak, ao’nung)

chapters:

i. found.

ii. out.

iii. help.

iv. treasure.

[earthsrirshaart]

Lesson One 🐣🩷

[nogitsune-the]

Cuteness overload 😍😍❤️❤️

[byunpum]

Gentle Giant

Pair: So’lek x Human child

Warning: None. So’lek Being a gentle giant, paternal instinct, child abandonment

Request: Tsu’tey adopted daughter series is my favorite but can I have mix of frontier of Pandora?

Note: I'm still learning all the characters from Avatar: Frontiers of Pandora. So please forgive me if I make a mistake. Also, if you would like to see more about this writing, let me know.

AVATAR MASTERLIST

So'lek hadn't planned this, and he was at a complete loss as to what to do. He was in the middle of the forest, with a little girl clinging to his leg. He had found her by total accident. He had been informed of an explosion near one of the RDA facilities. He was supposed to be accompanying Sarentu; it was just going to be a quiet patrol. To check that none of his people had been injured. However, here he was, standing still, looking at the strange creature. He felt that if that little creature kept touching him, he would catch something. Small human creatures were something So'lek had only heard about, and that was because Priya never stopped talking about how adorable they are.

"Ba baba.aaba," says the little one, sitting on the muddy jungle floor, looking at the man. Meanwhile, So'lek continues to look around in confusion. This little creature must have her family somewhere, So'lek thought as he began to hear the creature's cries. "No... be quiet," So'lek said firmly, pushing the little girl away slightly with his foot. This made the girl even more upset and she cried louder. So'lek didn't know what to do. It was starting to rain, and he wasn't going to take that thing with him. It could be dangerous... or not? "Hey... shall we go?" asks Sarentu, approaching So'lek and standing in shock at the scene. Next to him was a baby. She runs towards the girl and picks her up from the ground. "Awww, look what we have here," says Sarentu, taking the girl in her arms. But in a quick movement, So'lek takes her away and puts her back on the ground. "Don't touch her, she could be dangerous," says So'lek as he wipes his hands.

Sarentu laughs, while the little girl starts crying again. "Where did you get her?" asks Sarentu, examining the creature from afar. "She came to me... and touched me," says So'lek, looking as if he were afraid of the tiny thing. "They are the cubs of humans, that's what they look like... they are very vulnerable. We can't leave her here," says Sarentu. "Her parents should come for her... it's better not to touch her," says So'lek, watching as the creature stops crying and comes closer again. Now using his leg to stand up and raise her arms so that So'lek can carry her. "No... go away," says So'lek, moving away a little. But it was in vain... because, unfortunately for him, the dangerous creature was walking. "I already checked the area... and I don't think there are any survivors," Sarentu says sadly. Apparently, the little girl had survived.

"Well... it's not our problem," So'lek was about to leave, but someone was already holding his leg tightly. When he moved, the little girl started to laugh. Sarentu had to laugh too; she was adorable. "Apparently, she likes you a lot... come on, we have to take her to the shelter," said the girl, walking away from So'lek. "Hey!!! Don't leave me here with this thing," said So'lek, seeing that his complaints were being ignored. He pulled away from the girl's grip and walked a little further away. But he stops short when he hears crying. He tried to ignore it, but he didn't have the heart to do that. Turning around to look, the girl was crying on the ground... the rain had already wet her a little. In the distance, he could see the smoke rising from what was once her home. He sighed dramatically, approaching the little girl. So'lek might look tough, but he didn't have the heart to leave that creature there alone. The jungle could be very dangerous...it would be a quick dinner for any animal. In one swift, quick motion, he picked up the girl with one hand, holding her against his forearm. The little girl stopped crying immediately, holding on tight. So'lek didn't know why he was doing this; it was dangerous and foolish. But there he was, flying his ikran, on his way to the shelter.

So'lek arrived at the shelter and handed the girl to Priya, who excitedly checked on her. "From what I can see, she's only one year old... so tiny," said the woman. The people in the shelter couldn't stop looking at her and trying to get the little girl's attention. But she was only looking at So'lek, who was sitting far away... very far away from them. In a corner, he tried to figure out what was going on and why the child was staring at him with such determination. He sighed to himself and left the shelter to continue with his life. As soon as he walked out the security doors, he heard the child begin to cry. But he kept walking.

The days went by, and all so'lek heard was the creature's crying and everyone in the shelter complaining. They didn't know what to do anymore. They had already given her food and played with her. But it was all useless. She had only slept for a few hours, only to wake up and cry. They were slowly going crazy, to the point of leaving the girl alone in a small playpen in the middle of the shelter. Apparently, when she was alone, she calmed down a little. So'lek thought this was stupid and very irresponsible on the part of the group. She was a small baby who was supposed to need attention 24/7, not be left alone to her fate. So, without anyone noticing and very determined about what he was going to do, he waited for the right moment to execute his plan.

One afternoon, when the shelter was empty and some members were asleep, So'lek entered cautiously. Approaching the playground, he saw that the girl was sitting there playing with some blocks that Dr. Alma had left her. "Hello," So'lek said quietly. Seeing how the child looked up at him and gave him a smile, an adorable laugh, melted his heart. This melted the man's heart, but of course... he wasn't going to show it. "Come here... come," So'lek gestured with his hands, watching as the girl got up and walked toward him. Surprisingly silent, she was very determined to reach him. He took her in his arms, bringing her close to his face.

The little girl placed her small hands on So'lek's face and smiled again. For the first time, he could see her clearly. She had messy hair, a small nose, and small eyes. She looked so delicate that she barely weighed anything. He pulled her closer to his chest, watching as the girl calmed down and began to play with his decorations and bulletproof vest. "You like it... I can get something similar for you," So'lek said in a low voice. Calm and kind... a gentle giant. He could smell a peculiar odor coming from the creature. Lifting her into the air, he sniffed her. "Ahhh," So'lek grimaced in disgust. When was the last time you had a bath? He had to do something about it... maybe that was the reason why the girl cried so much.

He decides to leave the shelter, putting the oxygen mask on the girl and holding her in his arms. "I have to make some kind of carrying bag so I can carry you without any problems," So'lek says to himself. He knew the girl didn't understand, but he still told her his future plans. He was walking through the jungle, carrying the little girl to where he used to bathe. When he arrived, he thought for a moment... this shouldn't be difficult or any different from bathing a Na'vi child. To tell the truth, they were very similar. So he carefully removed her clothes and placed the human child in the water. It was a small river, which was the perfect depth. He cleaned the girl, noticing that she didn't complain at all. She was quiet and played with everything she saw. She touched the rocks and some of the vegetation around her, while So'lek continued to clean the little girl's hair.

After the bath, So'lek took some fabric left over from his outfit and placed it around the girl's waist. Trying to create a kind of tewng. "Later I'll make you something better... come here," So'lek took the girl in his arms, settling her in to take her back to the shelter. "We have to feed you... and then I'll look for something to do," he continued talking to himself, feeling the child falling asleep in his arms. He smiled a little to himself. "You also need a name... how about Y/N?" said So'lek, looking at the human child, who was already fast asleep, curled up in his arms. Looking for more warmth. "Y/N, that will be your new name... I'll teach you how to hunt, how to speak Na'vi, we have many things to learn," says So'lek. So'lek didn't know how he had ended up in this situation... but he was sure that this time no one would take his happiness away from him.

[nogitsune-the]

Im gonna cry I live this so much 🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️

[sugaryewscythe]

just a reminder that this blog is run by someone who:

— is anti ICE & fascism — is pro-choice & feminist — supports trans & queer people — hates generative AI & capitalism — supports immigrants & people of color — is pro-environmentalism & social justice — supports palestine & all other territories unjustly suffering

[gachihive]

Night time Nightmare

Bro x wife reader, Dear x mom reader

My first Bro x Reader hope you guys enjoy it, I really liked writing it! I imagine that Bro and his family have a private apartment in HQ tucked away from the normal dorms. Yes, I count Guita as Bro's daughter too and HC that she lives with him and Dear.

⚠️ Warnings! Allusions to sex! That's it.⚠️

Kisses, enjoy!

The night is supposed to be quiet... well, mostly quiet; it's supposed to be quiet with the exception of Bro's quiet snoring. You're lying next to him, leg flung over his waist, held loosely in a massive hand, body tucked against him, head on his shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your back and hand heavy on your hip; until one of you changes position that is.

But it's not quiet. You have your chin resting on his pec, eyes closed, mom senses like Bro and your kids like to call them has you listening.

You can hear your son refusing to settle; huffing and turning, and you know it's not because he's hot or sick; it doesn't sound the same.

"Bro," you whisper, sitting up and shaking him awake. He hums and cracks an eye open, gaze bleary with sleep. "Dear is having a nightmare." And you both start moving in tandem. Your husband reaches for an extra pillow, you climb over his waist, throwing on his discarded shirt on the way to the door. When you open it and step out, he's already pulling on his boxers.

You're halfway through the living room when Dear opens his door, he startles when he sees you in the glow of the night lights.

He's adorable in his oversized jammies and binky, his hair a cotton ball of poof and disarray.

"Hi sweetie," you greet.

You know he won't talk about the nightmares not when they're fresh. So instead you usher him to your room, careful not to wake Guita.

When you make it into the room it's all practiced movement; Bro picks up Dear comforting him in hushed whispers, you climb into bed and when you're settled you reach for your son, finally Bro climbs in last turning off the bedside lamp.

"We need a bigger bed," Bros whispers, nudging Dear, tucking him against your side.

"He says that every time, doesn't he, Dear? Then gets offended when we bring it up." You giggle.

Slowly, you three settle into your spots, slipping back into sleep, wrapped in your hubby's arms. Tonight's nightmare is left for the morning's light and Guita's surprise attacks.

"I really got lucky," you hear Bro say in the dark just before slipping completely into sleep.

[nogitsune-the]

This is so cute!!

[navybrat817]

The Greatest Gift

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You have wonderful news to share with Bucky and Alpine helps you.

Word Count: Almost 2.3k

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, crying, pregnancy, mention of HYDRA, implied sex, POV shift (you, Bucky, and Alpine), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Some sweetness to start off the week! @soelstress, thank you for the suggestion of the sign and letting me run with this.❤️ Beta read by the amazing @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The bedroom was close to silent when you woke, snow softly falling outside. It was the kind of winter morning that coaxed you to stay under the covers just a little longer and bask in the warmth of the man holding you. Turning your head, you smiled tenderly at the sight of Bucky sleeping, his mouth parted slightly and his hair loose around his face. His breaths were steady and gentle. It was beautiful to see him peaceful like this.

No missions. No nightmares. Just the sanctuary of your bedroom and home. 

You brought a hand to his cheek, your wedding ring shining in the low light. He moaned low and pushed his cheek closer to your palm, seeking you out in his sleep. Some days, you still couldn’t believe that he was your husband and wanted to spend his life with you. It was a dream come true.

And your dream was only getting brighter.

“Love you, Bucky,” you breathed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Both of us.”

His hand drifted seemingly on instinct to your stomach when you shifted and you held your breath. Did he know? Or did he at least suspect? 

Bucky always said that you were beautiful, but he asked recently if you switched up something in your skincare routine. He noted that you had an extra glow. You played that off as lighting and a new vitamin, which wasn’t a lie since you started taking a prenatal. 

He hovered more than usual, too, his brows furrowed whenever you mentioned feeling fatigued. He cancelled a few things so you could get more rest. You also caught him staring when certain smells made your nose wrinkle, and he quietly tossed the items out before you could ask. 

Your husband always took care of you.

But did he know?

Either way, he’d find out soon enough since today was the day.

You somehow managed to slip free from his hold, which wasn’t an easy feat, and got out of bed. You didn’t want to wake him just yet. He deserved to dream sweet dreams for a bit longer.

“Hey, Alpine,” you whispered when you spotted her curled up near the front of the bed, a perfect ball of white fur. She blinked at you before she stood and stretched. She knew you needed her. 

You tiptoed out of the room, the cat following with grace and purpose. A flutter of nerves filled your chest before it shifted to excitement. You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, the secret you carried ready to be shared.

The tiny chalkboard sat where you left it the night before. You’d lost count of how many times you wrote the message, erased it, and wrote it again, wanting it to be perfect. Picking it up with a shaky hand, you reread the message until the letters blurred together.

Mom & Dad are getting me a HUMAN!

Your stomach dipped and your hand flew to it. 

Your baby. 

You suspected you were pregnant when you missed your period, but you’d never forget the shock, happiness, and love that filled you when you saw the positive test. It had been real then, but it was sinking in just how real it was now, right on the edge of sharing the news with your husband. You and Bucky were already a family with each other and Alpine, but it was growing. 

“Do you think I’d be a good dad?” he asked, his voice so small it put a crack in your heart.

“I know you’ll be a good dad if and when that day comes,” you answered, relief and love softening his eyes.

“When,” he said determinedly, his hand warm against your stomach. “When we have a baby.”

You smiled softly at the memory. You thought about how to share the joyous news until it made sense that Alpine should be the one to do so. She helped save Bucky in many ways before you came along and she accepted you as his partner without question. She would be a wonderful big sister to your baby.

“You ready?” you asked. She meowed and sat up straight, and you smiled as you placed the chalkboard around her neck. “Let’s go get your dad.”

Your eyes instantly filled with tears. Dad. He was already one to the beautiful creature in front of you, and soon to the baby you made together. You took a steadying breath, willing yourself not to dissolve into a blubbering mess. 

Damn hormones. Thank God Bucky didn’t see you cry over that paper towel commercial the other day. How would you have explained that?

Alpine bumped her head gently against yours before she turned and strutted down the hall. You wiped your eyes and followed, your heart pounding in your chest when you stopped in the doorway. Bucky groaned when Alpine planted herself on his chest, and you held your breath as his eyes opened.

This was it.

“Al, what the hell?” he muttered, the sign swinging dangerously close to his face. You almost laughed before he sat up, careful not to knock his little partner-in-crime back. A flood of emotions crossed his face as he read the sign again. And again.

You exhaled because you had to. Was he happy? Was it his dream come true?

“Sweetheart…” 

Bucky checked the sign again to make sure the words didn’t change to FEED ME or You forgot my treats again, Old Man. But they didn’t. He wasn’t dreaming. And he suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Mom & dad are getting me a human,” he read out loud, his voice cracking. 

You stepped into the room, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. There was so much love radiating from you. More than he ever thought he deserved.

“Is this…” He swallowed hard and got to his feet. He crossed the room in a few strides, grounding himself as he cupped your cheeks and searched your eyes for the answer he already knew. “Are you…”

“Yeah, Bucky. I’m pregnant.” You let out a watery laugh. “We’re having a baby.”

His heart cracked wide open.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you like you’d slip through his fingers if he let go. His lips found your forehead, your temple, your cheek. He felt your smile before he kissed your lips, and he couldn’t stop smiling either. The world had given him a special kind of happiness when you came into his life, and the world was blessing him once again.

A baby.

You were pregnant with his baby.

It all made sense now. 

The glow he couldn’t quite place. The fatigue that hit you out of nowhere. The random smells that bothered you. And he didn’t mention it in case he was too hopeful, but his enhanced senses picked up that your smell was slightly different. 

God, you were pregnant. 

Of course, you were.

“I knew it deep down,” he whispered, kissing your lips again just because he could. “I knew something was different.”

It was everything he wanted and more. 

You laughed softly again, a tear sliding from your eye. “You did?” 

“Yeah.” His thumb swept across your cheek to catch it. “You were glowing, tired, and…” He cleared his throat when his voice broke again. “I just didn’t want to say it and it not be true.”

That would’ve devastated him. 

HYDRA chipped away at Bucky’s humanity until there was almost nothing else left. He recovered, but he hadn’t dared to hope. Alpine helped him heal more, and then you came along and gave hope back to him. He loved again with his whole heart. And he quietly prayed that one day your family might expand because he wanted to be a dad to your child. Even if it never happened, loving you and Alpine would always be enough. 

But you had just given him something precious. 

You had given him more hope for tomorrow.

He exhaled and laughed, a sound torn between disbelief and awe. His hand drifted down and hovered over your stomach, almost afraid that he hadn’t earned the right to touch. “May I?” he asked.

You covered his hand with yours and guided it. 

The moment it settled there, something inside him shifted permanently. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t something dangled in front of him just to be ripped away. It was real.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” he said barely above a whisper. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

Your smile made his heart swell. 

He dropped to his knees and pressed the gentlest of kisses to your stomach. His baby was there. “I meant it when I said when and not if. I just…” He looked up at you, tears pricking his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d get this lucky.”

He wrapped his arms around you, his head pressing against your belly. For a moment, he thought he’d sob. He’d go to every single appointment and turn down any mission that would keep him away from you. He’d buy baby books and read every single one. And there was the spare room that he’d have to change into a nursery.

Alpine jumped off the bed with a meow, the sign still dangling around her neck. She batted his thigh with her paw, demanding some attention. She deserved it. 

“You little sneak.” He picked her up and briefly pressed his face into her fur. “You knew before I did, didn’t you?”

She meowed smugly.

“You did great, Al,” he promised. “Really great.”

He chuckled and looked up at you. His wife, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. His chest ached with something beyond love and devotion, something he couldn’t name but felt with his entire being. 

“This is the greatest gift you’ve ever given me, apart from saying ‘yes’ on our wedding day,” he said softly, setting the cat down and removing the sign with gentle care. 

“It’s the greatest gift to me, too,” you said, making his heart full all over again.

“Al,” he said, a teasing smirk on his face. “Thank you again for your help, but you may want to give your mom and me a minute or two.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky, what are you-”

He chuckled when he picked you up and carried you back to bed, something primal blending in with the love he felt. He wasn’t planning on letting you leave it for the rest of the day. Not when he had you to worship. Not when they had so much to celebrate.

“I love you,” he said, meant for both you and your baby.

“We love you, too, Bucky.” You gazed up at him and he fell in love with you all over again. “We love you, too.”

Alpine’s tail slowly swayed as her mom and dad finally settled back into bed. She left when the laughter and joy faded into soft breaths and noises not meant for her. She was certain it was that every act that changed everything. 

She padded into the kitchen just as the timer went off, releasing food into her bowl. It was sufficient, but she fully expected a treat later for doing such a good job delivering the message. After that, she’d take a much deserved nap. 

Oh, her dad and mom. They loved each other so much. Truly. 

Her dad’s heart still thumped faster whenever her mom walked into a room. And her mom helped dad’s nightmares fade and made him smile again. They were a perfect match. 

But, honestly, it took them long enough to figure out the good news. 

She had known for weeks, long before the test and the chalkboard. Her mom’s scent changed, and so had her energy. Something on the television made her cry for no reason the other day. And her dad hovered more. He always did that when he loved something deeply. 

Humans could be terribly oblivious creatures. But dad and mom were her humans. She wouldn’t change that for the world. 

And soon, there would be another human in their home. A little brother or sister. Someone smaller. Louder. One who would grab her fur and cry at inconvenient hours.

She would allow it because this was her family. 

She would supervise. She would guard the door during naps. And she would help her dad watch over and protect her mom until her sibling arrived and after. 

Later, once the noise in the bedroom died down, she made her way back. Dad held mom close, their breathing slow and even now, his hand resting protectively on her stomach. They cried happy tears. She could tell. 

She jumped on the mattress and curled up beside them, the air light and happy. She would demand her treat soon, but this was good for now. This was right. 

And she was going to be an excellent big sister. 

Bucky’s thumb traced a heart on your belly, your chest tight. You were going to cry all over again if you weren’t careful. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up,” he whispered. 

“It isn’t a dream. It’s our life,” you whispered back, letting him pull you closer. “And it’s our miracle.”

He kissed your temple. “You’re the miracle,” he said, your heart skipping a beat. 

Alpine purred in agreement. 

Snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the world in beauty and quiet. Inside, surrounded by warmth and love, you, Bucky, and Alpine eventually drifted off to sleep. Your husband’s hand stayed on your stomach, protective and loving even while he rested. Your cat kept an open ear, also a guardian for your family. You’d make plans for the future tomorrow. 

Today, you’d rest, let yourselves have this moment of love and peace and celebrate your growing family.

Oh, the happiness and tooth-rotting fluff we deserve. How protective will Alpine be as a big sister? And how will they announce it to the team? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[autumnwitch67-reads]

[navybrat817]

Thank you so much! ❤️

[holmesandtheroman]

NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.

[vanillianbean]

A Moment to Slow down

Word count: 742

Pairing: Ivor x Gender Neutral Reader

Content: Established Relationship, pure unadulterated domestic fluff

Summary: It wasn’t often that you could get Ivor to take a break, so you tried to take advantage of any time you could get.

Taking a quick Corbeau break to give some love to my favorite giant himbo, hope you enjoy 💜

—————————————————————————————————

The gentle bobbing of a sail boat through waves was quickly lulling you into the best nap of your life. You could vaguely recall the sound of the ocean and maybe the calls of a few seabirds, but the steady, rhythmic movement was like a lifeline. The warmth of the sun was like being wrapped in a hug, making you feel safe as you faded into unconsciousness.

A whisper of your name made the water and waves fade away quickly. Your eyes cracked open, blearily taking in your surroundings. Right, it wasn’t the rocking of a boat; it was the rise and fall of Ivor’s huge chest, your mattress of choice for your late afternoon nap. And, you actually were being hugged, just not by the sun. He was the source of all of your warmth and comfort.

The mattress in question was shifting, wiggling underneath you as though he had reached his limit for sitting still. Taking a glance at the clock on the nightstand next to your bed, you saw that it had only been about 10 minutes since you first laid down together.

Ivor was not great with naps. Or sitting still, in general. He was usually moving from the second he woke up in the morning, right until he was back in his bed at night. You knew this, and greatly appreciated his effort to meet your needs like this. Still, after a long day of running around and training since the crack of dawn, you weren’t willing to let the quiet moment go quite yet. Surely he could indulge you a little longer.

You nuzzled your face against his chest, enjoying the feeling of his heavy hand on your upper back. “Ivy, just relax for a minute,” you sighed, words coming out slightly muffled as your cheek was squished against his hard pec.

You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel the way his strong body tensed with excitement at the sound of your voice. You could also hear the giddy energy in his voice, and could visualize a happy tail-wag as he spoke. “Darling! You’re awake!”

You lifted your arms to cross over his chest, resting your chin on your forearms and smiling up at him with sleepy, hooded eyes. You were right, he was staring down at you with sparkling, energetic eyes and his usual happy grin. “Am now. Did you even try to nap?”

His right hand came up to smooth your hair back, his touch purposefully featherlight as he brushed a lock away from your eyes. “You overestimate my ability to remain composed at times like this. I can’t sleep with you this close to me.”

You could feel a blush settle across your cheeks and you shoved your face back into his chest, knowing he was being 100% candid. He could be so unintentionally smooth with his straight-forward honesty. His hand started moving up and down your back soothingly, the other resting on your waist, and you could feel him rumble with quiet laughter. “I’m sorry for waking you so soon. I’ll try to be still if you’d like to continue your nap.

“I’m not sleepy anymore,” you confessed, peeking up at him. You could practically see some wheels turning in his head before he lit up again, catching the meaning in your tone. You pulled yourself up his body until you were face to face with him, and he didn’t hesitate to lean up and kiss you excitedly. His kisses were almost always energetic and quick, more like messy pecks as he couldn’t decide where he wanted his lips to be. You would never ask for anything else as you tried to match his energy, kissing him back with as much love and affection as you could muster.

His arms tightened, cradling you against his body as he trailed kisses over your cheek, up to your forehead and down the other side until he made it back to your lips. His arms were like a vice grip, but he was also so careful not to hurt you. He trusted you to let him know if he ever got out of hand, and you trusted him implicitly to never harm you. You couldn’t help but giggle from the sweet attention, heart swelling with affection for your giant boyfriend. As he ducked his head to begin trailing kisses down your neck instead, you could admit that this was far, far better than taking a nap.

----------------------------------------------------------

I don't think I'm going to post it on tumblr but AO3 as a slightly spicy chapter 2 if anyone is interested -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/73882811/chapters/192731541#workskin

[nogitsune-the]

So cute ❤️